


Locomotion

by caramel_sins



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 1940s, Accidental Pregnancy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - World War II, Cunnilingus, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gets real fluffy at the end, Hux is just happy to be here, Lady on Top, Old Hollywood adjacent, One trip ticket to Bonetown, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, do I have a smoking kink?, i was a history and gender studies major and it shows, strangers on a train, very brief mention of sexual harassment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25000744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramel_sins/pseuds/caramel_sins
Summary: Rose needs to shake some flirtatious sailors and the only compartment available is occupied by an overly serious professor. She decides to take a chance.Things...happen.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Rose Tico
Comments: 40
Kudos: 126





	1. Chapter 1

Shouts and cat calls followed Rose as she walked quickly down the corridors of the moving train. _Sailors_ , she thought, _no good, the lot of them!_ She hated to think so poorly of them, they were servicemen after all, but goodness were they a rowdy bunch. They had been relentless, teasing her and trying to get her attention. One had even goosed her, earning him a sharp smack on the hand. Why couldn’t a young woman ride a train in peace, for goodness sake?

As she passed compartment after compartment, she peaked in the windows trying to find someone to insulate her from the amorous attentions of about a dozen navy men. Most of the cabins seemed full, a lot of traffic on a Friday, folks making their way to the Bay Area for the weekend. She desperately hoped to find a compartment full of old ladies with knitting or a mother and her children. Good covers to deter servicemen who were prone to getting a little fresh. Unfortunately all the old ladies and mothers had either forgone this particular trip or were seated in overcrowded cabins with no room for single young ladies. 

Toward the end of the corridor Rose spotted a mostly empty cabin, save for a man in a nicely tailored suit. He was bent over a book, eyes trained on the page. Beside him was a cane made of nice wood with an ornate handle on top. He had taken his jacket off and had rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing pale forearms. He seemed harmless, with his tie slightly loose, ginger hair askew and faint mauve circles under his eyes. She took a chance and opened the door, sliding into the compartment with as much grace as she could muster.

“How do you do?” She mumbled as she slipped into the seat across from him. He looked up, his green eyes startling her with their beauty and intensity.

“Hello.” He replied stiffly before turning his attention back to his book. 

Rose attempted to settle into her seat pulling her bag close to her and looking out the window, watching as the scenery scuttled past them. She looked back at her seat partner who had returned to his book with renewed interest, brows furrowed in concentration. He was good looking, sharp cheekbones and full pink lips. He looked young, perhaps in his early thirties. She wondered why he wasn’t in uniform. Most men his age were, by now. She wondered if the cane wasn’t just decorative.

He shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable. He turned the page, long fingers flipping the thin pages with care. Rose leant forward trying to make out the title on the spine. It was hard to read, especially at the angle he held it. She leant forward even farther, bending almost in half to make out the letters. 

“Can I help you?” He asked, startling Rose, making her jump back into her seat. 

“I’m so sorry to disturb you. I just wanted to know what you are reading.” She felt herself blushing and her heart was beating out of her chest. 

“Graham Greene. Brighton Rock.” He replied tersely. He had an accent, English by the sound of it. 

“Are you from England?” She asked brightly. 

“More or less.” He replied without looking up from his book. 

“How interesting! What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I’m here for work.” He glanced up at her for a moment, startling her again with the sharpness of his green eyes. He really was rather handsome. 

“What do you do?” 

“I’m an assistant professor at Berkeley.” He went back to his book, no longer pinning her with his sharp gaze.

“What of?” He let out a long sigh and sat up, running a hand through his hair.

“Philosophy and ethics. Can I help you with something, Miss…”

“Tico. Rose Tico.” She supplied with a smile, sticking her hand out for an introduction. 

“Armitage Hux,” he replied, taking her hand and giving it one firm shake before dropping it like a hot potato. “Now, how can I help you, Miss Tico?”

“I’m just avoiding some overly amorous sailors who seem to think I’m the kind of girl who can show them a good time. I rebuffed them, of course, but some people can’t take a hint, you know?”

“I have a vague idea.” He replied, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he meant to smile. Rose blushed, catching his meaning. She looked down at her lap, staring at the abstract floral pattern of her red dress. 

“My apologies, Mr. Hux. I’m just a bit nervous, is all. I tend to just talk and talk when I’m jittery like this. Though I have to say I’m a rather chatty person, as it is. Used to get in trouble all the time for it at school, even though I was a good student. Graduated second in my class.” She could feel her mouth running away from her, words spilling out without her permission but she couldn’t stop. He watched her babble, face impassive save for a slight twitch of the lips.

“You know,” she continued, pointing her finger out toward the corridor. “You’d think servicemen were better trained than those hooligans out there but apparently not. I swear I’ve seen herds of geese behave with more decorum and manners than those _sailors_.” She huffed as she played with the hem of her dress, still avoiding Mr. Hux’s eye. 

“Gaggle.” He replied. She looked up at him, brow furrowed. 

“I beg your pardon?” She asked.

“It’s not a herd of geese it’s a gaggle.” He explained. 

“Oh, thank you. Well anyway, I’ll try to keep my trap shut for the rest of the trip. I’ll be quiet as a church mouse, just you wait.” Mr. Hux nodded, a faint smile on his lips. He returned to his book allowing Rose to begin to keep her promise.

****

Miss Rose Tico was an extraordinarily beautiful woman. This was a fact Hux wished he did not know. As it were he was all too aware of it. He was too aware of how her inky black hair curled perfectly around her shoulders. He was too aware of the way her warm brown eyes sparkled with humor and intelligence. He was too aware of the dimples that appeared on her full cheeks when she smiled. And he really wished he hadn’t noticed the way she filled out her dress. 

He felt like a lech eyeing her up after she told him about her run in with the rowdy bunch of sailors. But he could not help the way his eyes seemed drawn to her like a moth to the flame. And like a flame he was sure Miss Rose Tico would burn him right up. If he had not been such a fool perhaps he would have found out. 

He kicked himself for his cold behavior. Her beauty had made him nervous and his nerves had made him surly. Granted, he was not known for his stellar social skills. He was at best cold and at worst awkward around people let alone wildly attractive women. This would just be another entry on a long list of missed opportunities. 

He looked up from his book, he wasn’t really reading it anymore anyways. Rose sat back, an embroidery hoop in hand. Her head was bent and her brow were creased in concentration. With quick and steady strokes she stitched tiny gold stars in the black fabric in her hands. She drew her thread into a knot, pulling it taught and using her teeth to cut it. She moved on to another star, cutting another length of thread. As she drew the needle through the fabric she pricked her finger.

“Shit!” She whispered, as she sucked the wounded digit. He chuckled and she looked up at him, eyes wide. 

“Oh pardon me, Mr. Hux! I forgot myself.” Her cheeks had reddened in embarrassment. 

“It’s no trouble, Miss Tico. We all slip up on occasion.” He smiled benevolently. She smiled back, seemingly appeased by his words.

“Thank you,” she replied as she went back to her work. 

Distantly Hux heard shouts and cries coming from down the corridor. Rose looked up peering out the window of the compartment, trying to see what all the ruckus was about. The noise was getting louder as it’s sources approached. Rose’s eyes widened and before he knew it she had jumped across the aisle to his seat, moving close enough to him that he could feel the heat from her body.

“It’s the sailors,” she whispered in his ear. He felt his pulse quicken at the feel of her breath on his skin. 

Sure enough, several sailors appeared at the window not a moment later, their faces lighting up at the sight of Rose. One of them opened the door to the compartment, the obvious leader of the band of sailors. He was tall, young and handsome, and he had set his sights on Rose. 

“There you are! Why’d you run off?” He asked, planting himself on the seat across from them. Very presumptuous. 

“I was meeting my fiancé and I didn’t want to keep him waiting.” Rose replied as she slipped her arm around Hux’s. She looked up at him and smiled sweetly, like it was something she did everyday. He did his best to smile back.

“Fiancé? You didn’t say anything about it before.” The sailor replied. Hux shot him a dirty look that seemed to have little effect.

“I didn’t wish to be rude.” Rose demurred. The sailor didn’t seem pleased with the response.

“Running off was rude, if you’d told us we would have let you be.” Hux doubted that. 

“Accept my apologies. It was nice to see you again.” Rose said with a winning smile. The sailor smiled in return but made no indication that he was leaving. He scrutinized the two of them for a moment, searching for something. His eyes lighted upon Rose’s unadorned hand.

“Say, if you’re engaged where’s the ring? What kind of lug doesn’t buy their girl a ring?” He glared accusingly at Hux. 

“It’s being sent over.” Hux replied quickly.

“Oh check this out, he’s from across the Pond.” The sailor said to his compatriots at the door. 

“Would you please leave my fiancé and I alone?” Hux asked sternly, employing his most authoritative tone. The sailor stood and shrugged, dusting off his rejection with as much grace as he could muster. 

“Whatever you say, governor,” he said to Hux before turning back to Rose. 

“Hey if it doesn’t work out, give me a ring?” She smiled serenely and shook her head.

“You’ll be waiting by the phone an awfully long time. Goodbye, gentlemen!” She said with a sweet little wave. They watched the merry band of them retreat down the corridor. Rose unhooked her arm from his and stood, locking the door and pulling the curtain on the little window closed. She turned around, a radiant smile on her face. God, she was beautiful. 

“Well I don’t think they’ll be bothering us again! You were magnificent!” She said, giving Hux a mock opera clap. 

“Me? You were the one who was quick on her toes, I just played along.” He replied humbly. She waved her hand, brushing his compliment aside. 

“Oh it was nothing. But now that you mention it,

I was pretty clever to come up with that.” She said with a giggle, planting her hands on her hips. 

“So modest.” He replied teasingly. He didn’t know what came over him, he never _teased_.

“Hey! You were the one who gave me the compliment in the first place, now I’m just agreeing with you.” She wagged her finger at him playfully. It was very endearing. 

“Touché.” He said with a smile. 

“Thank you again, Mr. Hux.” She said, sticking her hand out to shake his again. He took it giving it a firm shake in reply. His hand lingered longer than it had to, enjoying the feel of her hand in his. 

“You’re welcome. And please call me, Armitage.” Her lips spread into a big grin. 

“Call me Rose, then.”

“Will do.” He replied with a nod. 

The train stopped short, sending Rose forward and directly into Hux’s lap. She straddled one of his legs, hands planted on either side of his head. His hands had flown to her waist, in an attempt to steady her. He looked up into her brown eyes and watched how her breath came out quick. Her lips were slightly parted in shock and something else. They stared at each other for a long moment, not moving. It was as if time stood still, all sense of anything outside of the two of them slipped away. And before he could comprehend the feeling, Rose launched herself forward and pressed her lips against his. 

****

Rose had no idea what came over her. One moment she was looking down at Mr. Hux and the next she was pressing her lips against his. Perhaps the thrill of the moment had robbed her of her sanity. Or maybe it was the way he looked up at her, with wonder and shock and the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen. Either way she was kissing him and she really, really hoped he wouldn’t make her stop. 

To her great surprise he didn’t stop her at all but instead intensified their kiss, moaning into her mouth as he pulled her closer. She planted her knees on either side of his legs, straddling his hips. Her hands went from the wall to his hair, opening up to him. She felt his hands sliding from her waist to her back, pulling her closer. She broke from him a moment, allowing them to take in a much needed breath. It was short lived. 

Hux surged forward, capturing her lips again, running his hands along her sides down to her legs on either side of him. She gasped into his mouth when he slipped a hand under the skirt of her dress to rest on her stocking clad thigh. She broke from him, taking in the flush on his face and his reddened lips. He looked debauched. It thrilled her. 

“Is this alright?” He asked, his voice hoarse. She nodded as she put her hand over his, moving it further up her thigh. He groaned as his fingers slid along her bare skin and over the line of her garters. She shuddered at the feeling, eyes never leaving his. Their joined hands reached the edge of her drawers. She let him slip his fingers under the edge, enjoying the way he gripped the rounded flesh of her bottom. He leaned forwards and began to kiss her neck with rough open mouthed kisses. She moaned softly at the feel of his lips combined with the heat of his hands on her ass. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He whispered into her skin. All she could do was whimper, too aroused to speak. She could feel moisture between her legs and an almost painful arousal coursed through her. She never knew she could be so on fire for a person, especially one she barely knew. 

Rose had been around the block a few times. She wasn’t a prude and she had desires that needed to be fulfilled. She had a little fling with a few fellas but nothing really stuck. They were fine but they were never like this, all heat and desire. This was like being on fire, hot and consuming. If she thought about it long enough she could almost feel the lick of the flame along her skin. 

One of Hux’s hands migrated to her front and slipped between the waistband of her drawers. His hand slid across the soft skin of her stomach before reaching the slick folds of her cunt. They both gasped at the feel of it, Rose lurching forward at the spark of pleasure that the touch brought her.

“You’re so wet.” He sounded as if he was in awe, like he couldn’t believe her desire. 

“You did this to me,” her voice was breathy, lust making words difficult to form. He groaned, her confession making his ardour double. He ran his fingers along her cunt, drawing circles around her clit, making her moan. She was so wet his fingers slipped through her with ease, caressing her folds with care and precision. 

She wound her arms around his neck, a hand fisting in the soft strands of his hair. He slipped one finger inside her than another. She gasped, some strangled aborted sound. Each stroke of his long fingers drove her wild. She ground down onto his hand, writhing at the feel of it. Her breath came out in harsh gasps as he fucked her with his long clever fingers. He pressed the heel of his hand against her clit, making her hips stutter. She moaned loudly at the sensation mounted.

“Quiet, my love,” he whispered in her ear. She nodded, tucking her face into the space between his neck and shoulder, trying to muffle the sounds that came out of her.

Her crisis was approaching, her hands fluttered from his hair to his shoulders and back to his hair again. She tugged at the strands in time with the pulse of her core, her orgasm beginning to crest. His lips brushed against the place where her pulse beat on her neck then to a secret spot behind her ear. She bit down on his shoulder, tasting the cotton of his shirt. She came with a shudder and a muffled scream, her body pulsing around his fingers. Her lashes fluttered at the force of it and she sagged in his arms. 

****

Rose Tico had been beautiful before but now she was practically resplendent. The sun and the goddamn stars were just dots of light compared to her. Her beautiful dark hair was mussed, the curls turning slightly frizzy. Her cheeks were a glorious shade of pink and her lips had turned a kiss-stained red. Her eyes were dark, pupils blown wide with arousal. And to his great shock she looked down on him like he was just as magnificent. 

“I want to share,” she whispered as one of her small hands stroked his erection through the fabric of his trousers. He gasped, hips jumping at the feel of her fingers against him. 

“Alright.” He nodded like a fool. She grinned, unbuttoning his trousers, pulling them down slightly to free his cock. Her grin widened at the sight of him making him feel slightly proud. She sat back abruptly and climbed off his lap. He felt the loss of her weight acutely, body leaning slightly forward as he unconsciously bent toward her like she was some heavenly body and he was a sad orbiting moon. 

Rose stood before him smiling sweetly as she pulled the hem of her dress slowly up her legs, unveiling the beautiful expanse of them. Hux watched, mesmerized, eyes trained on the curves of her body. She pulled the hem of her skirt up past the waistband of her drawers, letting him glimpse the pink silk of them. He saw the matching garters she wore, one strap had come undone in the haze of their amorous fumbling and dangled over the hem of her slightly loose stocking. She looked both debauched and divine, like some otherworldly agent of desire. Before his mind could supply more lust addled poetry she hooked her fingers in the waistband of her drawers and pulled them down. To his great chagrin, the fall of her skirt hid almost all of what she might have revealed. 

Rose walked back over to him, stuffing her drawers in her pocket a bit inelegantly. She resumed the position she was in earlier, knees on either side of him, straddling his hips. She was like a goddess above him. Her hair framed her face like a halo, her eyes warm like sunshine on his face. He felt inadequate and overwhelmed. What had he done in his life to be as lucky as he was now? He took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, reveling in the way she smiled into the kiss.

“You’re sweet,” she whispered as she grasped his erection in her small hand. Hux gasped loudly, the sensation of it all consuming. He was on fire, heat licked through his veins. The weight of her hand on him was like a delicious flame. But it was nothing compared to the glide of her wet cunt dragging along the length of him. And that was nothing compared to the squeeze of her inner walls around him as she slipped him inside. 

They both moaned at the feel, each needing a moment to adjust to the change. Her breath ghosted along the skin of his neck, her lips brushing against his jaw. If he was consumed by her before he was burning alive now. The moth now knew what it was like to be surrounded by flames. And he was happy to perish like this. 

Slowly she set a pace for them, moving above him with a gentle roll of her hips. Each small thrust was a gift she gave him and he took it greedily from her. He pulled her close, kissing her hungrily as their bodies moved in unison. 

After a while the slow pace they had set wasn’t enough for him and, based on the furrow of her brow, it wasn’t enough for her either. He moved his hands from her waist to the roundness of her ass, lifting her slightly as he thrust into her hard and quick. Rose wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, his head just a few inches below hers. He kissed the strip of skin exposed at her chest by the small keyhole of her dress, noting the slight flush there.

“You feel so good,” she whimpered, hips stuttering a bit. He groaned into the skin of her neck, her words driving him wild. He slipped a hand between them, fumbling under her skirt trying to find her clit again. She cried out when he found it, burying her face in his neck as she tried to keep quiet. 

He was so close to coming, he could feel the pleasure building along his spine. Heat surrounded, burning his skin under the rasp of his clothes. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to be bare beneath her but he almost feared it. What would happen to him if he had the pleasure of her naked skin? Surely he would be nothing more than ash, consumed by her flame. Even now he was at the mercy of her pleasure, enraptured by the stutter of her hips and the sweet moans in his ear.

“Please, Armitage!” She gasped, lips ghosting over the flesh of his neck. He moaned at the squeeze of her cunt fluttering around him and at the sound of his name on her lips. She bit down hard on his shoulder as she came for a second time, body shuddering and moans pressed into his skin. He followed afterward with a moan of his own, buried in the curls of her hair. 

They sat together for a long moment, simply holding each other as their breath rushed in and out. He felt the beat of her heart through his shirt, and the soft cushion of her breasts against his chest. Her head was placed on his shoulder, his resting on the crown of her head. His hand rubbed strange and almost soothing patterns along her spine, while her fingers played with the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

Slowly Rose sat back, running a hand over her curls in an attempt to smooth them. She smiled at him, lazily, as she stroked his cheek. He leant forward, placing a small kiss on her lips. She stirred and stood slowly, letting him slide out of her, a small gasp leaving her lips at the feel. She pulled her drawers out of her pocket stepping into them once more and shimming them up her legs. She fixed the loose garter as well, clipping it back on her stocking. He watched, enraptured, as he straightened his trousers. Everything she did was ordinary, mundane even, and yet to him it was the most extraordinary thing in the world. He wondered if he was half in love with her or if his brain had entered some lust filled haze. Perhaps it was a bit of both. 

Once Rose was put back together, somewhat, she looked up at him and smiled. She stepped forward, planting herself in the space between his knees, and gave him another heart stopping kiss before pulling away. 

“I better stop before I get carried away again.” She said, straightening back up. 

“Please don’t.” He grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. 

“Get carried away?” She asked, brow quirked. He chuckled and shook his head. 

“No. Please don’t stop.” She smiled at him leaning forward again, kissing his lips. They traded kisses for a bit before she broke from him, stroking his cheek with her thumb. 

“This was...this was nice.” She said with a blush. He nodded vigorously. 

“Yeah.” Hux replied, no better answer coming to mind. 

“Would you like to see me again?” She asked shyly, as if she was unsure of the answer. He couldn’t help but laugh. Did she really think that after an extraordinary moment like this, that he would just let her slip away?

“Would I like to see you again? What do you think?” 

“Well, I don’t know.” She said with a shrug.

“Rose, love, I very much want to see you again.” He said earnestly, tugging gently on her hand until she sat back in his lap. 

“Really? Well that’s swell, isn’t it?” She said with a grin, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I think so.” He replied with a matching grin. 

“Well do you have plans tomorrow?” She asked. 

“Yes. With you, I think?” She smiled broadly at his teasing tone. 

“Well, aren’t you a charmer.” She said as she gave him a small peck on the lips. 

“I think you’re the only one who would describe me like that.” He replied dryly. 

They both heard a whistle and Rose looked down at her watch. They were still about an hour away from the station. She smiled slyly up at Hux, a slight pink flush returning to her cheeks.

“Well, Armitage, it looks like we have an hour before the train gets to the station. What ever shall we do?” 

“Oh, I believe we can think of something.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Rose walked down a small residential street, trying to find the address Armitage had given her. It was a nice day, cool but sunny, like most nice days in San Francisco. The houses along the street were a mixture of new homes and old ones all painted in light colors. They looked like little scoops of ice cream on green lawns, some shaded by tall old trees. Birds chirped loudly from branches and there was a distant cry of children’s laughter from behind one of the homes. It was a pleasant little street, one that Rose wouldn’t have minded living on. 

She had suggested meeting at his house. She usually wouldn’t make such a presumptuous suggestion but she figured that their meeting was unconventional enough that any further improprieties would be forgiven. He had suggested picking her up but she had declined. The image of Armitage walking up to her parents front door had filled her with trepidation. What was she going to say?  _ Oh Mom and Dad this is the man I threw myself at on the train. Now he’s taking me out so we can fuck in bed instead of a train compartment. Isn’t that just swell? _

So instead of subjecting Armitage to that mortifying ordeal, she had told her parents that she was meeting a friend for lunch and would be home before dinner. They waved goodbye to her, thinking they were seeing her off for an innocent little date with an old high school chum rather than a continuation of a very impromptu love affair. She felt terrible doing it but the alternative felt worse. No one should have to find out that their daughter was a floozy. Well not a floozy, she wasn’t a floozy for just anyone. She was only easy for one man, and that man was Armitage Hux. 

She came upon his house, a rather modern little place with a nice front porch. While the other houses looked like strawberry ice cream scoops or pistachio, his was a plain vanilla with dark green shutters and a matching front door. Ivy vines crawled up the front of it and from the side she thought she spied a small little vegetable patch in the backyard. It was a rather pleasant little home, one she could see herself living in if she had the chance.

Armitage sat on a wicker chair on the front porch, cigarette in hand, looking out toward the street. He didn’t see her, eyes a bit distant as if he was looking but not seeing. He absentmindedly lifted his hands to his lips taking a long drag off his cigarette. From this vantage point she could admire him in daylight instead of the overhead lamp of a train compartment. He was as handsome as she remembered, in his bottle green sweater and nicely tailored trousers. His hair was slightly askew, falling over his forehead. It was good hair, thick and straight, the color striking in the sunlight. 

By chance he looked up and toward her, a smile gracing his lips at the sight of her. He stood stiffly from his chair, taking uneven steps down his porch stairs to meet her on the sidewalk. She had noticed the limp as soon as they had made to leave the train. She didn’t comment, it wasn’t her place to, and he didn’t supply any explanation as was his right. It explained why he wasn’t in the service and that’s all she needed to know. 

She reached him in a few quick steps and found that she didn’t know what to do. Should she greet him with a hug? A kiss on the cheek? A hand shake? She felt nervous and unsure, like she was a calf walking on new and unsteady legs. He seemed equally so, standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets and a slight blush on his cheeks. 

“How do you do?” He asked, hands firmly in his pockets. So no hand shake. She leant up, depositing a soft peck on his cheeks. His blush deepened but he smiled brightly down at her as she pulled away.

“I’m doing well. And yourself?” She replied sunnily. 

“I’m very good. Very good. Would you, uh, like to come in? I have some tea and sandwiches inside.” He  _ was  _ nervous, it was obvious now. The tips of his ears had gone red and he waved his hand wildly toward the door of the house. It made her smile. He was cute like this.

“How very formal!” She teased, sliding her hand into the crook of his arm. 

“Not at all. It’s very casual.” He assured her as he led her up the porch steps. 

“I don’t know about that. No man has ever made me tea and sandwiches before.” He smiled down at her almost bashfully. God he was so damn cute she could scream!

“Well it's a day for firsts. I’ve never made anyone tea and sandwiches before. I hope it’s all up to snuff.” He opened the front door and made a gesture for her to go ahead of him. 

“I’m sure it will be.” She said as she stepped over the threshold. 

****

Armitage couldn’t believe that Rose was sitting before him in his home, laughing at the stupid things that fell from his lips. It still surprised him how beautiful she truly was. She was an angel in a sailor style dress and matching navy beret. Her full lips were painted an alluring red, and it took all of his strength to not stare at them with naked longing. He was a man possessed around her, a teenager discovering desire for the first time.

He hoped his feelings did not show. He already felt like a lech, ogling her like this. And his behavior yesterday was beyond the pale. Never in his life had he done something of that nature. He was like an animal in heat, pawing at her like that in a public place. He felt guilt wash over him for the hundredth time since he had arrived home yesterday. What kind of monster fucked a girl senseless in a train car? Not only once but twice. 

The second time had been almost better than the first. There was some perverse urgency to their coupling, knowing the train was about to enter the station in only a few short minutes. With clever fingers and the angels on his side he was able to get her off before his second climax beneath her. The way she had looked at him was something he would never forget. And the red hot shame that had followed was equally hard to shake.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out. She furrowed her brow in confusion, tilting her head slightly. 

“What for?”

“Yesterday.” He couldn’t look at her, staring at the sandwich on his plate instead. 

“Oh. Well there’s no need to apologize. I’m the one who pounced on you like a crazed animal. I should be apologizing.” He looked up, and saw a bright blush across her cheeks. She looked ashamed and something in his chest constricted at the sight. 

“No, no, no. Don’t ever apologize. That was probably the most incredible thing to happen to me in all my life. I just don’t want you to think I’m some lech. I don’t, well, I don’t really do things like that.” He stuttered. She gave him a shy smile in return. 

“Neither do I. I don’t want you to think I’m like that with everybody. I’m not a floozy, I swear!” She grimaced. 

“It would be okay if you were. I wouldn’t like you any less.” He replied. 

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Well that’s rather forward thinking. Is that something studying philosophy teaches you?” A teasing smile graced her lips and he felt the conversation shift just a bit. 

“Yes and no. Depends on the philosopher. Aquinas wouldn’t think so but Wollstonecraft would.” It was an oversimplification on his part but he knew that eyes tended to glaze when he got too specific. 

“Well I like the sound of him.” She replied with a teasing smile.

“Her.” He corrected gently. Her brows shot up in surprise and a big smile spread across her lips. 

“Her? Well isn’t that something special. Wish it wasn’t but it somehow is.” She said as she took a small bite of her sandwich. 

“Yes. It’s a pity.” He agreed. 

“You think so?” She asked, tilting her head in question. 

“I used to not. It never bothered me that all the texts I read were a long line of men from a very specific corner of the world. It seemed as it should be. But after my time in the war I thought perhaps more perspective in the study of philosophy and ethics was very necessary. I think others are coming to a similar conclusion.” 

“You served?” She asked.

“Yes. Early on, before you lot joined in. I was injured at Dunkirk. Shrapnel lodged in my upper thigh. Kept the limb but I was no longer in fighting shape.” He felt heat on his cheeks as he spoke. He rarely spoke of his small stint in the armed services and he liked to keep it that way. But people often asked about the limp and the cane and he had to supply more information than he would naturally volunteer. But Rose hadn’t asked and it seemed like she never would. He liked that. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not. War is...difficult.” He cleared his throat and looked toward the clock on the wall. 

“Well I, for one, am glad you're here. Who would make me sandwiches and tea?” She asked with a giggle, changing the mood completely. He smiled, marveling at her ability to put him at ease. 

“Is that all I’m good for?” He asked, teasingly. 

“Oh no. You’re good for a lot more than that.” She replied with a devilish twinkle in her eye.

****

Rose couldn’t be sure who had made the first move. One moment they had been sitting at his kitchen table, talking about this or that, and the next moment they were in the throes of passion. The minute that they touched felt electric. She could barely comprehend what her life had been before that moment and she shuddered to think what it would be like after. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to touch and be touched by him. The feel of his long fingers digging into her flesh and the caress of his lips on her skin was like nothing she had ever experienced. It was like flame and ice, soft yet insistent, gentle yet passionate. The passion she felt was a sea of contradictions and yet she had never felt more sure of anything in all her life. 

They stumbled toward his bedroom, Armitage gently leading the way. She grinned at him as they passed the threshold of the doorway, kissing him all the while. After a few more fevered kisses she pulled away, giggling at the noise of protest he made. She began to unbutton the front of her dress, trying her hardest to concentrate on slipping the buttons through the holes instead of staring at the handsome man in front of her. 

“Rose, nothing needs to happen. That’s not why I asked you over.” Armitage said as he bent to take off his shoes, undermining his words a bit.

“I know, but maybe I want things to happen.” He looked up and smiled widely at her, making his eyes crinkle at the corners. Goodness was he cute!

They quickly removed their outer layers, leaving Rose in her slip and Hux in his drawers. Once he revealed the pale expanse of his chest Rose had practically pounced on him, kissing and caressing the creamy soft skin. She wanted to taste every freckle that dotted his skin and feel the contour of every muscle. She was hungry for it, her mouth watered at the thought. And she knew he was hungry too. She could feel it in the slight tremor of his hands, and the way his breath stuttered. Every caress he gave her was both sweet and urgent, his need making his hands heavy on her hot skin.

“You’re good enough to eat.” She purred as she nibbled on his earlobe. 

“My god, woman, are you never satisfied? Aren’t my sandwiches enough to sate you?” She giggled, pulling him down for a kiss on the lips. She could feel his smile underneath her own.

“Your sandwiches are all good and well but I need something a little more substantial.” She said as she goosed him. He jumped a little, letting out a sharp laugh. She smiled at the blush that covered his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

“Is that so?” He asked as he pulled her toward him again, stilling her wandering hands with his. 

“Mmhm” she sighed as his lips found the space behind her ear.

“Well now that you mention it, I’m still a little hungry myself.” He said as he nipped her earlobe. 

“Oh really?” She asked, breathlessly. He nodded in reply before dipping his head to ravage the skin exposed by her slip. Lips and teeth nipped at the skin of her neck and shoulder before he slid a hand under the thin strap. He pushed it away gently, revealing the majority of her left breast. He groaned at the sight dipping his head further to kiss the soft flesh of it. She sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, attempting to pull him closer. Clever fingers began to pluck at her nipple, sending little shocks down her spine as his other hand squeezed the flesh of her ass through the silk of her slip. Every touch felt deliberate, like he was a musician and she, the instrument. 

He coaxed her gently to sit down on the end of the bed. She obliged, laying back, letting her bare legs dangle over the edge. He slid his hands up the sides of her legs, eyes roving over every inch of her exposed flesh. She wondered what she looked like with her curled hair coming loose from its pins and her slip barely concealing her body. The pink silk was mostly gathered at her waist and only one strap was in place, the other dangled down her arm, exposing her breast to his hungry gaze and attention. She watched, sitting up on her elbows, as he slowly got to his knees before her. 

“Does that hurt?” She asked, worry creasing her brow. 

“Not in the slightest.” He replied as he ran a hand up her thigh. She sighed at the feel, almost forgetting her concern until his face scrunched up in a small wince as he shifted his weight.

“Don’t lie to me.” She warned with a wag of her finger. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied as he tugged her gently forward along the bed. She squirmed slightly in anticipation, knowing what he had in mind but unsure of the outcome. No one had ever done that to her before. She’d heard about it through the grapevine but had never even broached the subject with past sexual partners. It seemed too taboo and even now she felt heat flood her cheeks at the thought of his face poised between her open legs. 

Rose watched as Armitage leant forward, kissing the soft skin of her inner thigh. She gasped and squirmed under his touch, feeling heat and moisture pool between her legs. He kissed the inside of her knee, nipping softly at her skin making her hiss in pleasure. She could feel the smile on his lips as he gave the other knee the same attention. With small brushes of his lips he moved further and further up her thighs, making his way toward her center. The anticipation was enough to make her whine in frustration. He bit into the fleshy part of her leg making her squeal. 

“Patience.” He reprimanded, as he soothed the bite he just gave her. 

“I’ve been patient enough.” She whined. He chuckled moving forward until his face hovered over her fevered skin. She barely had time to think before he took one long swipe up the center of her. She yelped at the feeling, hips jumping off the mattress. He took an arm and placed it over her stomach to steady her as he began to lick her in earnest, earning sighs and whimpers from her lips. 

“My goodness!” She cried out as he swirled his tongue around her clit. Each swipe of his tongue was like nothing she had ever felt before. It was hot and wet and delicious. It was like floating and coming back down to earth all at once. The heat of his mouth and the motion of his tongue drove her to the edge of reason. Her world was just the feel of him and nothing more. Every brush of his tongue was more pleasurable than the last and she felt herself quickly climb higher and higher toward her peak. 

“Armitage, please,” she moaned, not knowing exactly what she asked for. Release? An end to this pleasurable torture? More of him? He seemed to understand what she did not and slipped one long finger inside of her and a second soon after. She moaned loudly as she felt the stretch of it. He crooked his fingers, finding a spot in her she was not aware of until his touch lighted upon it. Her world narrowed as pleasure flooded her body. Her fingers tugged at his hair and her legs shook, all words lost save his name which escaped her lips on a loud moan. 

Armitage finally released from his attentions, rising from the floor and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. The filthy gesture made her body thrum with pleasure all over again. She scrambled to her knees drawing him close and depositing a sweet kiss on his lips. 

“Add that to your list of accomplishments.” She said between kisses.

“Above or below sandwiches?” He asked. She laughed, shrugging her shoulders.

“I can't be sure. I’ll need another sandwich and another go at that before I make my final assessment.” She replied with mock seriousness. 

“Is that so?” He quirked his brow, a smile playing on his lips. She nodded, trying to hide her grin. 

“I want to be thorough.” 

“I think that can be arranged. Though I’d like to enter a new category.” He said as he pulled her slip down her shoulders. The silky pink garment slid off with ease, pooling around her knees. She stood on the mattress stepping out of the rumpled lingerie. She looked down at him, smiling like a goon at the way he looked up at her, all naked reverence. She felt like a goddess and the luckiest woman alive. 

“What’s the new category?” She asked.

“Huh?” He stared at her, stupefied. 

“What are we adding to your list of accomplishments?” She teased as she sunk back down to the mattress, pulling him toward her by one freckled shoulder. 

“Oh, that. Well I’d rather show you.” He said as he scrambled to remove his drawers. 

“Then show me.”

****

Rose was truly, the most beautiful woman on this green planet. Everything about her was utterly magnificent. The dip of her hip, the soft flesh of her derrière, the curve of her spine, the roundness of her thighs, the softness of her belly, her breasts. God her breasts! They were breathtaking. He could touch them all day, feel their weight in the palm of his hands. The fact that she would let him and take pleasure in the action was both ludicrous and miraculous. He could not believe his great fortune. The universe had smiled on him for the first time in his life and he could not begin to fathom why but he would do everything in his power to keep this woman in his orbit.

Hux supposed he was succeeding at that thus far. Rose seemed very satisfied with his performance, her teasing words and moans of pleasure were evidence enough. And the fact that she had returned for more was a good sign. And as if she knew she needed to reassure him, she grabbed his arm and pulled him further up the bed, running her hands over his naked body with excited reverence.

“You’re so handsome.” She said between fevered kisses.

“Really?” He asked. She nodded enthusiastically. 

“Really.” 

“To each their own.” He replied with a shrug, trying to hide the blush that turned his skin pink.

“You don’t think so?” She asked, a crease appearing between her brows.

“Of course not.” She frowned as she smoothed back the hair that had fallen in his face. 

“Why not? You  _ are  _ very handsome.” She replied earnestly.

“I’ve been told otherwise.” Her expression darkened at his omission and he couldn't help but marvel at her fierceness.

“Whoever told you that is a damn fool.” She kissed him passionately, pulling him as close as she could get him.

“It was a long time ago. Don’t worry about it, my love.” He replied as they broke apart. She smiled at the endearment, giving him a peck on the cheek. 

“Do you have, um, protection?” She asked as she pulled back, a blush on her cheek. He laughed at her bashfulness. How could she be so shy after all they had done? 

“Yes, in the nightstand drawer,” he replied, pointing to the aforementioned nightstand to the left of her. She leaned over, pulling the drawer open and rummaging through it. She pulled out a pair of tortoise shell glasses and grinned at him.

“You have glasses?” 

“For reading purposes, yes.” He replied. She smiled wide as she examined the frames.

“I think I’d like to see you in those.” She announced. He shook his head. If he put those on now she would become an indistinct blur, and he wanted to see all of her. 

“Maybe another time.” 

“That’s a promise.” She said as she put the glasses back. After a moment of searching she pulled out a prophylactic, gently ripping open the paper packaging. 

“ _ Property of His Majesty’s Royal Armed Forces _ ,” she read, “Should I curtesy?” 

“Not necessary. You’re doing your duty by lying back and thinking of England.” She laughed loudly at his joke. He grinned, triumphantly, back. No one ever laughed at his jokes. Granted, he didn’t make them often. 

“Why think of England when I can think of you?” She asked as she wrapped her small hand around his cock. He gasped at the feeling, reveling in the squeeze of her hand the tug of her fingers. She stroked him for a moment before slipping condom on, eyes trained on his face mapping his reactions with her soft brown eyes. 

“What way is comfortable for you?” She asked, eyes darting to the angry red scar on his leg. Honestly he had forgotten the pain, lost in pleasure, but he appreciated Rose’s efforts. 

“Me sitting and you on top, like on the train.” She nodded, moving away from him so he could get into position. 

“Good,” she announced, “I like you that way. Close but at my mercy.” He groaned at her confession.

“You’ll be the death of me, woman.” She smiled as she straddled his lap, grabbing his cock once more as she guided him to her entrance. 

“Well the French call it the  _ petite mort _ , don’t they?” She said as she slowly lowered herself on his cock. He groaned, head falling forward to rest on her shoulder. He kissed along her collarbone, nipping at the skin making her gasp. He liked the sounds he could draw from her, from the soft little hisses to the loud moans, each marking her pleasure. It was the best music, like nothing he’d ever heard before. He did everything in his power to draw more moans from her lips, moving his hips a certain way, running his hands along the curves of her body, tasting every bit of flesh he could. Every new movement produced a new gasp and he reveled in it. 

Rose may have been on top but Hux took subtle control. His hands guided her hips with gentle pressure, chasing his desire as much as he gave into hers. Every roll of her hips and flutter of her hot cunt sent shocks of pleasure through his body. And through the haze of lust all he could think of was Rose. Of the way she laughed, her wit, her joyful exuberance, the beauty of her face in the throes of passion and the way she tilted her head with curiosity. She was incredible and she somehow deigned to be with him, to let his tainted hands touch her miraculous body. It was beyond comprehension but the rapturous pleasure she gave him was all too real. 

“I’m so close, please,” she begged as her hips began to stutter and her pace became more erratic. Even her pleas were designed to drive him closer to his little death. Her soft cries for release spurred him into action. Hux leaned forward, lowering her gently until her back was on the mattress and he was above her, her legs around his hips, her fingers sunk into the strands of his hair. 

“Now, you are at my mercy,” he whispered in her ear, as he pounded into her sopping wet cunt, making her cry out. He snaked a hand between their bodies, using his long fingers to draw circles around her clit, drawing her closer and closer to her second climax. He could feel her inner walls flutter around his cock, sending sparks of pleasure up his spine. He knew once she fell off the edge he would not be far behind. 

“Come for me, Rose,” he commanded, breathlessly, as he left open mouth kisses along the exposed skin of her neck. She came with a drawn out cry, her body shaking around his cock, sending him over the edge. Together they gasped into each other’s skin, falling victim to the  _ petite mort _ . 

****

Rose was sure she had died and gone to heaven. It was only for a moment but she was certain that she had felt something close to the divine. Even after the force of her peak she still felt small shocks of ecstasy spark along her skin, radiating from every point of contact. By some miracle, Armitage had eked out every bit of pleasure from her body. Perhaps she was being a bit overly dramatic, the afterglow of their intimacy making her thoughts fantastical. But what they had shared was rather spectacular.

She turned her head to look at her partner in crime, who still gasped beside her, overcome by his own small trip to the afterlife. 

“That was...something else, wasn’t it?” She watched with delight, as a big smile spread across his face.

“It really was.” He replied, turning to look at her. She leaned over planting a kiss on his lips. He returned it lazily, placing a hand on her cheek. Reluctantly she broke from him, making to rise from the bed. He grabbed her hand, stopping her.

“Are you leaving?” He asked, an almost forlorn look settling over his features. 

“No, darling, just getting my slip from the floor.” She stroked his cheek, attempting to wipe away the frown that had appeared there.

“Yes, of course. Would you mind getting my cigarettes off the top of the dresser?” He gestured to the wooden dresser across from the foot of the bed. On top was a pack of Lucky Strikes, a silver lighter sitting beside them. She nodded, picking up her slip and sliding it over her head. She tip-toed over to the dresser, pulling a cigarette from the pack. She lit the cigarette and took a long drag off it as she made her way back to the bed. 

“I don’t remember asking you to smoke it for me,” he teased as she handed it to him. 

“I took some liberties.” She said with a shrug. He smiled around his cigarette. 

“That you did.” He replied as he exhaled.

“I don’t recall you complaining earlier.” She settled down beside him placing her head on his chest and hugging him close. He took his free arm and wrapped it around her shoulders.

“I suppose you’re right.” He conceded. 

“I often am.” She said with a smile, burrowing into his side. For a moment they sat in silence trading the cigarette between them. 

“When do you have to leave?” Armitage asked, breaking their momentary quiet. She looked at her watch and sighed. 

“Before six, we still have an hour.” It still felt too soon but she couldn’t leave her parents wondering where she was.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” He asked. She looked up at him and gave him a sad smile and a small shake of the head. 

“I have to be back in Los Angeles tomorrow. My boss has a big meeting and needs me to take the minutes.” A sad look flitted across his face. He took another drag of his cigarette, attempting to hide it.

“A pity.”

“Yeah. The only bright spot is that sometimes someone famous shows up. Last time Merle Oberon was there. You know, she’s as pretty in person as she is on screen. You can’t say that about everyone.” She sighed, remembering how glamorous Ms. Oberon had looked when she saw her sitting in her bosses office chair. She was really something to behold. 

“Merle Oberon is alright.” Armitage said with a shrug. She turned on him, mouth agape. 

“Alright?! She is stunning. What’s wrong with you? You’ve got eyes don’t you?” She was flabbergasted, she couldn’t imagine anyone thinking Merle Oberon was just  _ alright _ ! 

“I do. But Ms. Oberon has nothing on you.” She smacked him on the chest. He laughed, flinching away from her hand. She laughed too, sitting back down beside him.

“You flatterer. You don’t need to work so hard. I already like you.” She could feel his smile at her words. 

“It’s the truth! Don’t shoot the messenger.” He replied in mock defense. 

“Alright, big boy. Settle down.” She chuckled.

“Perhaps Merle Oberon is better than alright,” he admitted. “But believe me when I say you are just as beautiful.” She smiled up at him, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

“You’re sweeter than you let on.” She said as they broke apart. 

“Only for you.” He replied. And something about the look on his face made her believe it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back, baby! Some folks wanted a sequel so here it is. There will be one more chapter to follow. Hope you all enjoy this one. 
> 
> Some Historical Context! 
> 
> Condoms were not easy to come by in 1940s America. Depending on where you lived they were often prescription only and you had to be married to get them. With WWII and the influx of young men in the armed forces STIs were a big concern. So all branches of the armed services in America and abroad gave out government issued condoms. There are some amazing wartime posters about the dangers of STIs and the importance of safe sex if you want to go down a fun google rabbit hole. 
> 
> Merle Oberon is not one of the most famous actresses from the 1930s and 40s but she is one of the most interesting. Her story is really fascinating in terms of understanding the intersections of race, colonialism, and beauty in old Hollywood. She was an Indian born actress who passed as white and did pretty well in the UK and Hollywood all while trying desperately to hide her race. There is an excellent episode of Karina Longworth’s (Rian Johnson’s wife) podcast “You Must Remember This” about her that goes into some great detail. It’s really worth a listen!
> 
> Mary Wollstonecraft is considered one of the foremost feminist philosophers. She was very much a proponent of free love and sexual liberation well before most people were on that tip. She was also Mary Shelley’s mother. 
> 
> Philosophy and ethics in the pre-WWII area were on the brink of some really big changes. Post modern philosophers like Hegel, Foucault, de Beauvoir were just starting to get the ball rolling and there were a lot of people trying to grapple with a brutal war and a rapidly changing world. Hux’s little dive into his own changing philosophy mirrored a lot of post-war thought and would be the foundation for what we now explore in the fields of philosophy today. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! Feedback always appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

It was well after dark by the time Hux walked through his front door. He had a late class and an overeager student who wanted to discuss Kierkegaard in further depth. He had been somewhat charmed by his student’s enthusiasm but ultimately cut him off after a half an hour, promising to continue the discussion during his office hours later that week. The young man had apologized profusely for holding him up but Hux had dismissed it with rare flippancy. He’s been doing that a lot lately. His usually rigid nature had softened and curved over the last month. He was pretty sure he could pinpoint why. 

Since their train ride trist, Hux and Rose had spent every weekend in each other’s presence. Some weekends he would meet her in Los Angeles, staying at an old school friend’s house and taking her out to restaurants and long walks in Griffith Park. More often than not they would make it back to the apartment she shared with her sister, falling into bed or the couch or on some occasions the kitchen counter. At this point he had had her every which way and he could have her a hundred more times and not get tired of it. She seemed equally enthusiastic, happy to be intimate in any place and at any time, though she seemed to prefer the days they spent in his home the most. 

Rose fit well there. She seemed born to take up residence in a house like his. She infused warmth into every nook and cranny, places that were once cold and empty were filled with her essence. Since her arrival she had done little things to make it feel more like a home rather than just a house. She had brought him a crocheted throw blanket, potted plants, small bouquets of flowers, and a framed picture of her sitting on the pier with a bright smile on her face. He had teased her, telling her that he was the one who was supposed to bring flowers and gifts, not she. 

“We’ve never done things conventionally, darling.” She had replied. 

She was right of course and if he were to be honest he was glad for it. Convention had never brought him a modicum of happiness. Rigidity and rules had made him sour and old before his time. Rose had injected his life with a youthful exuberance that he had missed out on. He wasn’t so very old now but just a month prior he had felt practically ancient. He supposed war could do that to a man but he knew that war only compounded his trauma, it had not created it.

Hux heard a soft meow at his back door accompanied by insistent scratches and then the rattling of the screen. 

“I’m coming, you little menace.” He shouted in the direction of the racket. He made his way toward the back door, eyeing the little black and white blur that now paced in front of it. He opened the door to the fattest little tuxedo cat that he had ever seen. He still marveled at her rotund little body, something most street cats did not possess. As soon as the door was opened to her she barreled in with a loud cry, running through the kitchen belly swinging as she went.

“She’s not here, Cat. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” Hux had been feeding the little goblin for some time before Rose came along, but had never invited the creature in. He had spent many mornings on his porch with the cat, scratching her behind the ears and enjoying her soft purrs but he always turned her loose after a while, not wanting to stifle her transient nature. When Rose came upon her for the first time, she had squealed in delight, heaving the giant into her arms and peppering kisses all over her whiskered face. Cat had the grace to meow and accept the affections before she started to squirm, desperate for freedom.

“What’s her name?” Rose had asked.

“I have dubbed her Cat.” 

“Very creative.” She replied sarcastically as she scratched the creature between her black ears. 

“It suits her.” She chuckled and shook her head. 

“She’s more distinguished than that! Look, she's rather glamorous.” She gestured to Cat who had settled on the porch, belly squished around her making her look like a large fury puddle. 

“Glamorous? She's a fat little gremlin.” He had protested.

“Don’t listen to the big mean man, you’re beautiful my dear.” She had said to Cat who languidly blinked her big green eyes in response. 

“I never said she wasn’t beautiful. Her rotund nature does not exclude her from that compliment, I just take umbrage with the word glamorous.” He had replied. 

“Why’s that?”

“I’ve seen her take a shit in the neighbor kid’s sandbox.” She had laughed loudly at that, shaking her head in dismay. 

“We all have to go somewhere.” She had said with a shrug.

Now Cat was sitting in his kitchen, staring up at him, something she had begun doing more and more. She seemed to like staying inside, especially at night. On occasion she had crawled in bed with him, long after Rose had left, curling up in the crook of his arm, leeching the warmth that emanated from his body. She was a poor substitute for Rose but she was a welcome companion nonetheless. 

He grabbed a small bowl from the cabinet, the one he had designated for Cat and Cat alone. He opened the icebox and took out some leftover chicken scraps, depositing them in the bowl. Cat wound through his legs, meowing in anticipation of her meal. He shook his head. 

“You’ve got this street wrapped around your little paw. I’m sure the Johnson’s kid has been feeding you everyday, three times a day, and yet you still come here begging for more.” She just looked up at him and meowed impatiently, unperturbed by his accusation. He plopped the bowl down on the ground and she attacked it, inhaling it with unparalleled veracity.

“Slow down, glutton.” He reprimanded as he stroked her back. She stopped eating to look up at him for a brief moment before she dove back in with renewed vigor. He left her to her devices and walked over to the couch and removed his shoes and loosened his tie. 

The house was silent save for the sounds of Cat’s enthusiastic eating. It was always silent when Rose was not there. He needed noise. He stood and walked over to the record player in the corner, pulling out a jazz record that Rose had brought him. It was a French band, led by Django Reinhardt, a rather accomplished guitarist. He hadn’t heard of him before she had gifted him the album but he had taken a shine to it almost immediately, enjoying the way the music matched her exuberance. 

He propped his feet up on the coffee table and sat back, letting the jaunty picking of the guitar fill the room. After a moment he felt the weight of Cat jumping up on the couch, making her way toward his lap. She heaved her body onto his legs, making him wince as she put pressure on his bad leg. She adjusted, distributing her considerable weight evenly and finding a comfortable spot for the both of them. He scratched her between the ears and they sat in companionable silence listening to the record play. 

****

The train ride had been excruciating. To be fair the last few days passed with painful slowness but the train ride had been an exercise in torture. The minutes felt like hours and each hour felt like years. And to top it all off she seemed to experience a new bout of crying every time the clock announced a new hour. The chime would herald the fall of tears that was soon to come, the sound reminding her of all the mistakes she had ever made.

In the midst of one of her weepiest hours a kindly older woman had happened upon. She was probably her mother’s age perhaps a little bit older. She was dressed fashionably, her graying hair rolled stylishly against her head. By the smell of her perfume and the quality of her dress she seemed rather well off, important even. Too important to be comforting a silly young woman on the train. And yet she dutifully sat beside Rose, wrapping deceptively strong arms around her. Rose was too weak to fend her off, instead leaning into the kind touch. She didn’t ask any questions, just simply sat with Rose until they arrived, holding her hand and talking inane nonsense to try to distract her. 

The kindly lady had gone on and on about her son and his wife, her late husband, her twin brother’s work. Rose had liked listening to her, letting her voice lull her into some kind of comfort. Rose only cried a few times after her mystery companion’s arrival and each time she was soothed by her quiet and steady presence. It was strange to find so much comfort in a stranger but by some miracle she did. Something about knowing that she need not reveal any secrets or receive any reprimand, silent or otherwise, was something invaluable. 

Upon arrival they departed with a warm embrace, something that Rose had needed almost as desperately as her companionship on the train. 

“Be well, my girl,” she said as she wiped a stray tear from Rose’s cheek. 

“Thank you so very much. Your presence has meant the world to me,” Rose had replied through a broken sob. 

“Oh hush! I’m glad to help.” The sweet stranger hailed a cab for Rose, paying for the fair before Rose even got a chance. 

“It will all work out, my love. Have faith.” Rose nodded and waved as the cab took her to Armitage’s front door. 

It was a Wednesday, and she knew Armitage would not be expecting her. They had limited their relationship to the weekends and saved the weekdays for work and other responsibilities. The studio demanded a lot from her, even though she was just a secretary. The star making business never rested and she was expected to keep up with it. She found it fun but exhausting, more so now. Part of her dreamed of settling down, maybe working on scripts. Something slower paced. She had some practice, her boss had asked her to punch up some scripts that had ended up on his desk and she had enjoyed it. One of her lines had even made it on screen. It had been exhilarating to see Greta Garbo say a line she wrote! 

But now that was all for not. Her dreams of script writing would have to be put on the back burner. Maybe she would go back to it in the future but now her life was in flux. It all depended on this moment, on Armitage, on what he would say and do when she told him. The realization made tears spring to her eyes again. She hastily wiped them away, trying her hardest to seem cool, calm and collected. She was anything but. Deciding that now was as good as time as any she knocked on his door and waited for his answer. 

She heard a soft thud behind the door, and a light curse before the door swung open. Armitage stood at his door in his socks, tie loose and a cardigan around his shoulders. His hair was mussed and there was a crease on his cheek from where he must have rested it in his hand or perhaps a sofa pillow. She must have woken him from an impromptu nap. He looked at her in a state of shock, noting her tear stained face and unannounced appearance. 

“Rose what on earth are you doing here? Is everything alright?” He asked as he ushered her in. She tried to nod, to seem brave, but all she did was wail. She flung herself on him, hands fisting in the soft knit of his cardigan. She felt Cat rubbing up against her legs, greeting her too. Armitage wrapped his arms around her, almost by instinct, rubbing soothing circles on her back. 

“I’m so sorry, Armitage!” She cried as she held onto him. She felt him chuckle underneath her cheek. She looked up to see a crooked smile on his face as he peered down at her. He took his thumb and wiped away her falling tears. 

“You never need to apologize to me, Rose.”

“But I do! Oh you have no idea what kind of things I need to apologize for!” His brow furrowed but he kept stroking her cheek, his touch gentle and persistent. 

“What on earth would you need to apologize to me for?” He sounded so trusting, so sure of her goodness, it made her heart break and mend all at once. 

“For being such a goddamn floozy.” All of a sudden he looked scared. 

“What... what do you mean?” He stuttered. He did not release her from his arms but she felt his body move away from hers. She shook her head.

“Not like that, Armitage.”

“No, no. It’s alright. I understand if you want to see someone else.” He looked so sad, but resigned as if he knew this was coming. She shook her head vehemently.

“There’s no one else, only you.” She assured him, stroking his cheek. He looked down at her, doubt still marring his handsome face. She took a deep breath, she had to tell him. 

“I’m pregnant.” He reared back, letting her go. Her heart broke again. She knew this would come. 

“What? How? We used protection!” He practically shouted as he paced, hands raking through his copper hair. 

“Not on the train.” She reminded him. He stopped in his tracks and looked up at the ceiling. 

“Oh, Christ.” He cursed. 

“Yeah.” She replied softly. He turned to her, eyes wild. 

“What should we do?” He asked, somewhat desperately. She felt that desperation take hold of her too.

“I don’t know! God how could I fuck this up so badly?” She wailed as she plopped down on his couch, burying her head in her hands. She heard him as he walked toward her, joining her on the couch. His hand came up and stroked her back, soothing her. 

“You? Last time I checked it takes two to tango.” He replied with a dry chuckle. She felt laughter bubble up in her as well. She looked up to see a small smile on his face. It was the self satisfied smile he wore whenever he made her laugh. 

“Don’t make me laugh. I shouldn’t laugh about this.” Her light chuckle belied her words. Deep down she was happy to know they still had a bit of lightness between them, despite everything. 

“I’m not trying to. Just ask my students, I’m not a very funny guy. They never laugh at my jokes and I hold their academic futures in the palm of my hand.” She laughed more as she shook her head. 

“Well they aren’t paying attention, then. You’re very witty.” His smile grew. He leaned forward, planting a small peck on her lips. The kiss made her shoulders relax just a bit. 

“Thank you.” He said as they parted. She looked at him for a long time, mapping his face. She realized then, how much she loved him. She loved his green eyes, his patrician nose, his full pink lips, his wit, his bright intelligence, the excited way he spoke of his work, even his stiffness and reserve was intriguing to her. It made his warmth to her all the more precious. She reached out and stroked his cheek, earning her a brilliant smile from his lips. 

“What are we going to do?” She whispered. His smile faltered a bit. He grew serious and took her hands in his. 

“Whatever you want to do Rose. I’ll do whatever you want.” He said it with such earnestness that she could not help but believe him.

“You mean that?”

“Of course.” He replied adamantly. She nodded and swallowed thickly, tears pricking at her eyes again. 

“I know people in Los Angeles. Well my boss knows people. I could...you know. If that’s what you wanted.” She spoke the truth. She could hardly count how many times she made discreet phone calls to various entities around Los Angeles, all for starlets who found themselves in the family way. She never knew any names but she knew how to find them. 

“Is that something you want?” Armitage asked, eyes searching hers. 

“I don’t know.” She replied truthfully. She thought about it a lot since she had figured out she was pregnant. If she got an abortion it would free her of obligation, Armitage too. She could continue working toward her goals, have a career if she chose. And she wanted a career, she wanted to continue writing and working in Hollywood. If she had a baby, her dreams would come to a halt. 

“Well if it is. I’ll pay for it. I’ll go with you. Whatever it takes.” Armitage announced, drawing her from her thoughts. She looked at him, jaw agape. How did she end up so damn lucky? She launched herself forward, capturing his lips with hers. 

“God you’re amazing.” She told him as they broke apart. He shook his head at her. 

“This is the least I could do, Rose.” 

“Well it’s more than what most men would do.” She told him. 

“Well the bar is abysmally low.” He said with a sneer. She chuckled. 

“It is but you exceed it ten fold.” She assured him. Armitage smiled at her, placing a kiss on her forehead, drawing her close. She nestled up against him, drawing her feet up on the couch. For a moment they sat in silence, feeding off of each other’s warmth. 

“What if I wanted to keep it? What would you say to that?” Rose asked, breaking the quiet that had settled around them. 

“It’s your choice, Rose. I’ll be by your side whatever you choose to do.” She looked up at him, trying to locate the sincerity in his eyes. 

“Really?” She asked. 

“Really.” He replied. She believed him. 

“That doesn’t scare you?” She felt the fear overtake her every moment she thought of it. It gripped her, filled every cell in her body. 

“Of course it does but the alternative scares me too.” He admitted. 

“Me too.” She replied on a quavering breath. She knew an abortion could be dangerous. The secret nature of it made it more so. Some doctors performed it with care but others less so, more interested in the money they received than the women that ended up on their operating tables. 

“These people that your boss knows. Are they safe?” He asked, his train of thought following along the same track as hers. 

“As safe as they can be, I’d suspect.” She replied. She trusted her boss, he was a good man and he believed in taking care of people. He would put her in good hands but one couldn’t account for everything. 

“That’s not very reassuring.” Armitage whispered. She could hear the fear in his voice. It mirrored hers. 

“No it’s not.” She sighed. She watched as Cat came sauntering over, her fat little belly swinging. She smiled at the creature, bending down to lift her to her lap. Cat acquiesced with grace.

“Oh Cat, what are we going to do?” Rose asked her as she scratched her under the chin. Cat only purred in response. 

“I’m sure she would prefer to monopolize your attention for as long as she can.” Armitage replied for her. Rose chuckled. He was right, Cat seemed rather attached to her and constantly begged for pets and scratches. All things Rose was more than happy to provide. 

“I like taking care of her. Could a baby be that different?” He looked at her, brows raised in amusement.

“From what I understand children tend to be more demanding than fat cats. Louder, certainly.” She laughed at his response, hands still scratching along Cat’s body. 

“I don’t know, she’s pretty vocal.” Rose countered with a grin. He chuckled, reaching over to join Rose in showering Cat in attention. 

“That she is, though she’s rather self sufficient. Children are not.” She looked at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Boy, they teach you a lot in that university of yours.” She replied dryly. 

“Haha. Very funny.” He said with equal sarcasm. 

“I’m trying to lighten the mood.” He just shook his head.

“You don’t need to on my account.” He told her. 

“Yeah?”

“I’m not that upset.” She looked at him for a long moment, trying to find the truth.

“You’re not?”

“I’m surprised, sure. Anxious, you bet. But I’m not upset. It’s not necessarily bad news.” She was floored. 

“It isn’t?” She asked. He blushed and looked away from her, eyes trained forward. She saw that his ears had gone a deep shade of pink.

“I wouldn’t mind having a child with you.” He whispered. Her mouth dropped open in shock.

“You have to be joking.” She stated, emphatically. 

“Why would I joke?” He said, turning to her. She shook her head, not believing what he said. Cat slipped off her lap, then, sensing the change in the room. 

“Stop it. Don’t pull my leg. I’m very vulnerable, you know.” She admonished him. He shook his head, taking her hands in his. 

“I’m not joking, Rose. I...I have a great deal of affection for you and having a child with you would be...it would be rather nice.” His face was even more flushed now, but he didn’t look away from her. She stared in his green eyes, a smile threatening to claim her lips. 

“Affection?” She asked. He swallowed and looked down at their joined hands. 

“Love, Rose. I love you.” He announced, sparing a glance at her. She let out a shriek of joyous laughter, disengaging their hands to clap in delight. 

“Hah! I knew it!” She said, throwing her arms around him. She felt him chuckle against her, his arms encircling her waist. 

“That was not the reaction I expected.” He said as he kissed her cheek, pulling back to look at her. She lifted her hand to his cheek, rubbing circles into his soft skin with her thumb. 

“Oh Armitage, I’ve loved you since you told me I was prettier than Merle Oberon.” He let out a breath he had been holding. 

“That long?”

“Just about.” She replied with a nod.

“Well damn.” He said as he brought her close, giving her a searing kiss. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around him. He hummed against her lips, pulling her onto his lap. Her legs opened around him, assuming their usual position beside his hips. Their kisses turned heated, teeth and tongues were employed. She could not recall if she was the one who unbuttoned her dress or if he did. It ultimately did not matter, all that mattered was that it was off her body and that his hands could roam her bare skin. 

Rose sighed as his lips claimed her newly revealed skin, his hands rising from her hips to her waist. His thumb brushed over the place just below the band of her brassiere. He leaned down to kiss a mole there. 

“I love this mole,” he said. She hummed in response, running her hands through his silky hair. His hand traveled up further, undoing her brassiere and throwing it to the floor to join her dress. He kissed her newly revealed breasts.

“I love these breasts.” She giggled, admiring the playful glint in his green eyes. He dipped his head further taking one of her sensitive nipples in his mouth. He sucked on it, earning a sharp moan from her lips.

“I love this nipple,” he said as he released it, letting her breast fall back in place. Gone was the playfulness replaced by a consuming hunger. She was hungry too, utterly famished. She kissed his lips, letting him feel her growing desperation and the way her core clenched at his words.

“I love these lips,” he said as they broke apart. 

“What else?” She breathed. He grinned, kissing her passionately as he pulled her down on the couch. He moved from her lips, trailing hot kisses along her neck. 

“I love your neck,” he whispered into her skin. She moaned at the feel. 

“More.” She replied. He nodded as his kisses became bruising, teeth grazing skin. He took his time nipping and licking places she did not know needed his attention. All the while she watched him and he watched her, eyes trained on each other. She would never grow tired of the way he looked at her, the way he touched her, talked to her, made her laugh. She was a fool for him and she was rather happy to be. He was a man worth being a fool for. 

Armitage's quest to kiss and name the parts of her body that drew his ardour continued. He returned to her breasts, making sure she understood how very much he  _ loved _ them. And she very much loved the way he teased her, tasting her nipples and pinching them between clever fingers. He traveled further, kissing the place where her heart beat through her skin and then the light swell of her still soft belly. 

“I love your skin,” he said as his tongue dipped into her navel. Her hips jumped at the feeling. She could feel the smug smile that graced his lips as he moved from her navel. She supposed he earned the right to be a bit smug. He was rather clever and he deserved praise though she held her tongue. He was insufferable when he gloated. 

He drew his hands down from her waist to the band of her drawers. He pulled them down gently, frown forming in his lips.

“I hate these drawers,” he announced. She laughed loudly.

“Hush, those are expensive,” she reprimanded, watching as her ivory silk underwear flew across the room. 

“They’re in my way,” he grumbled. Whatever retort she had died on her lips as she felt the tips of his fingers brush against her aching core. 

“I love your cunt,” he practically purred as he dipped his head, taking a long swipe with his tongue. Her hips jumped and a loud moan escaped her lips. Since that first day she spent with him he had done this several times, each time better than the last. He seemed to enjoy it, making her come apart with his mouth. And he was damn good at it. With the right amount of pressure and the clever swirl of his tongue he could have her falling apart in a matter of minutes. Today he took his time, running his tongue along her folds, teasing her clit with gentle strokes. 

“Show me how much you love my cunt,” she begged, shocked at the words that left her mouth. He moaned into her, clearly excited by her filthy words. He began teasing her with more purpose, sucking on her clit and sliding a finger into her aching pussy. She cried out as he curled it, timing his strokes with the suction on her clit. She could feel how close she was, pleasure dancing along her skin and sliding down her spine. Her hands pulled at his silken hair and her legs shook. He slid another finger inside her, curling it with the other, hitting that perfect spot inside her. 

“Oh god, Armie, I’m so close!” She moaned, her back arching off the couch. He lifted his head, fingers still pumping inside of her, his thumb replacing his lips on her clit. 

“Come for me, Rose.” She nodded, whimpering as she looked into his eyes, watching him as he watched her. His face was flushed, his hair a mess, his lips glistening with her juices. He looked so beautiful it made her chest ache. He reached forward, his free hand coming to rest on her cheek bringing his face up to kiss her through her crisis. She gasped against his lips as her body convulsed and shook with the power of her orgasm. She moaned into their fevered kiss, parting only to gasp at the sharpness of her pleasure. 

Slowly she came down, soothed by the soft caresses of Armitage’s fingers and gentle kisses. She lay there, breathing heavily, waiting for sanity to come back to her. 

“You are an evil genius.” She gasped as she turned her head to look him in the eye. He laughed. 

“What makes you say that?” She turned over a little, letting him slide in next to her on the couch. He draped his arm around her, resting it in the dip of her waist.

“With a mouth like that, I would have spilled all my secrets in a matter of moments.” She replied. He smiled, placing a kiss on her lips. 

“Would you?”

“Yes, sir. The government should hire you. You could make any spy talk.” He laughed, running a hand over his face.

“I don’t want to do that to just anyone.” He told her, with a hint of seriousness. 

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really. Those methods are reserved for a very special person.” He pulled her close, leaving soft kisses along her bare shoulder. She slipped her hand under his loose color, slightly annoyed at the amount of clothes he still possessed. 

“And who is that?” She asked. He didn’t answer right away, just continued to kiss a path along her shoulder and neck, tasting the skin there. 

“The woman I love.” He finally replied. She smiled, pushing him back so she could see his face. 

“Say it.” She demanded, as she stroked his cheek and drew him closer. 

“Say what?” He asked, playfully. 

“You know what.” 

“I love you, Rose.” He said, as he stroked her cheek. She felt her heart swell, and tears filled her eyes. 

“Dammit, Armie. I love you.” She said, throwing her arms around him.

“Music to my ears.” He murmured as he placed a gentle kiss on her lips as he pushed her back on the couch.

****

Hux woke, as he often did, to the feel of a paw on his face. He groaned, eyes closed, reaching out for the creature who’s paw was currently interrupting his slumber. His hand landed on Merle, née Cat, who sat in front of him on the bed. He cracked an eye open to see Merle sitting above him, peering down with feline superiority.

“Can I help you, Merle?” 

_ Mrreow.  _ Was her concise reply. He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. 

“Why am I the only one you do this to, hmm?” He asked as he scratched the cat behind the ears. She purred, stretching as she made her way across the bed toward him. He stood, slipping his feet into his slippers and pulling his bottle green sweater over his head. He picked up Merle, who only protested a little at his manhandling. He opened the door and made his way toward the kitchen, body moving toward the smell of freshly roasted coffee.

“Daddy!” Came the sweet shriek of his beautiful little daughter. Alice came toddling over, her small feet slapping against the floor. She was fast for a one year old, almost too quick for him to keep up with. 

“Hello, Ladybug. Are you having a good morning?” He asked as he traded a relieved Merle for a smiling Alice. 

“Daddy,” was her only reply as she put two meaty little hands on his cheeks. He smiled at her planting a kiss on her little nose, delighting in the way that she laughed. He would never tire of that sound.

Hux turned and looked at the table where Rose sat, script in front of her, red pen in hand. She looked up and smiled brightly at him, leaning down to scratch Merle’s head as she bumped against her foot. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” He asked as he went over to plant a kiss on her lips. She accepted it with grace before she answered him. 

“You seemed tired. I thought I would give you a few extra minutes.” She said with a shrug. 

“Thank you, my love.” He gave her another kiss, this one a bit longer and with a bit more passion than what was appropriate for so early in the morning. But he just couldn’t help it. She looked so beautiful in her black polka dot dress and her hair all nicely curled. She was a temptress and he was utterly tempted. She was the one to pull away first, grinning at him as she did.

“Don’t be so fresh, darling.” She said, swatting him on the arm, playfully.

“Can’t a man kiss his wife?” He teased.

“Sure he can, but not like that at eight in the morning.” She admonished with a grin, as her eyes went back to the script before her. 

“There’s no law against it.” He slipped into the chair across from her, Alice still firmly in his arms. Rose looked up and smiled, reaching across the table to wrap a small lock of Alice’s dark hair around her fingers. She had only a little of it, but it curled in small ringlets around her head. 

“There should be. We need to protect the innocent.” She gestured to Alice. 

“She doesn’t have a clue. Do you, Ladybug?” He asked Alice, who merely giggled at him as she reached out and grabbed a handful of his hair. At first it was sweet until she started to pull it with an alarming strength. Christ, she was strong for one so little. 

“Ouch! Goodness, Alice, you’re just like your mother.” He said through gritted teeth as he pried open her little fist.

“Christ, Armie, you’re awful!” Rose laughed loudly, head thrown back. He smiled. God, he loved to make her laugh.

“She won’t understand.” He replied dismissively as he traded his lock of hair for his finger. Alice grabbed it, pulling the digit toward her face for further inspection. 

“Suppose you’re right.” Rose conceded. She stood, reaching for the cardigan on the back of her chair. By the look of it, it was one of his, falling too long on Rose’s short frame. She looked damn good in it, though. 

“Want some coffee?” She asked as she made her way over to the pot. 

“That would be delightful.” 

“Toast too?” She asked as she pulled the toaster closer to her, already reaching for the bread.

“You know how I love your cooking.” He teased.

“Shut it.” She replied, aiming the butter knife in his direction. Alice finally brought his finger to its final destination, her mouth. She slobbered on it loudly. 

“What? You have a way with toast. And cereal.” He replied, with mock sincerity.

“You liked my meatloaf.” She said in a way of defense. It was true, her meatloaf was rather delicious. The sides on the other hand were a tad over done. And by overdone he meant burnt to an ever-loving crisp.

“The potatoes left something to be desired.” 

“Hey now, I never said I was a good cook.” He heard the sound of the toaster going off and then the scrape of the butter knife across its surface. He turned to see her dip it in a jar of jam, just the way he liked it. 

“True.” He replied with a smile, loving the way she blew a stray lock of hair out of her face. She looked up then, smiling at him and Alice, who still casually munched on his index finger.

“And I married you because of your chicken cordon bleu, so I expected you to do most of the heavy lifting.” She countered. 

“Right again, but as I recall you married me for my other talents.” 

“It was a running list. I believe it included sandwiches as well.” She reminded him. 

“Right, now I remember.” He never forgot. Not a single word.

“And I think, somewhere on that list it might have said ‘ _ because I love him’ _ but one can never be too sure.” She said as she placed the cup of coffee and the plate of jammy toast before him. She scooped Alice before she could get her sticky little hands on his breakfast, something she was gearing up to do. 

“I love you, darling.” He said as he grabbed her free hand and kissed it. Rose smiled, running that same hand through his hair. 

“I know. Now eat your toast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Historical Context time!
> 
> Django Reinhardt was a famous jazz guitarist during this period and wrote some great music with his band. I don’t have any fun facts about him other than you should go give his music a listen if you’re interested. It really gets me in the mood when I write for this time period!
> 
> Abortions in the US were not safe nor were they legal in the 1940s, but plenty of people got them. An early figure put the abortion rate at about 25% of all women in the US had an abortion whether through surgery or medicated means. A good half of those were married women. Access to contraception and abortions were strictly controlled and most of the time legally prohibited. Many women died trying to obtain abortions and many suffered complications for the rest of their lives. Even if the practitioner was well intentioned complications were common and going to a hospital meant risking being arrested, leaving women to suffer in silence. (I use the term ‘women’ loosely as not all people who can and do get pregnant are women and not all people in the past who were labeled as ‘women’ would identify as such if they had the choice.)
> 
> Hollywood at the time was a place where abortions were performed with shocking regularity. Unmarried and married celebrities got abortions to keep their careers and maintain the allusion of their stardom. Some suffered greatly for it. Merle Oberon, was one of those people. She never was able to conceive due to a botched abortion at a young age. So yeah, folks need the right to choose!
> 
> Women script writers were few and far between in the golden age of Hollywood but they did exist! Many of whom have gone unnamed. Dorothy Parker was one of the most famous screenwriters of that era, known for her sharp wit and concise storytelling. She was famous for dropping the best lines of dialogue in any script. I wanted Rose to be a screenwriter or at least someone who punched up scripts (added jokes, refined dialogue, etc.) in honor of the late great Carrie Fisher. One of THE best screenwriters of all time. Shout out to my one and only Queen. 
> 
> That is all! Hope you enjoyed this sweet little tale. It was really a joy to write!

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if you enjoyed this fic! Would love to write more in this time period but haven’t found the right way to go about it. Leave suggestions if you want some more!
> 
> Also! I have a Twitter! If you want to follow me there please do! I post mostly dumb shit but I would be very happy to receive prompts and questions and the like. Follow me @friendofdimpy for some trash content!


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